


Seriously, the Flirting

by ami_ven



Series: Highly Classified [20]
Category: NCIS, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: writerverse, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: Torres appreciates the rescue, but there’s only so much flirting he can take.
Relationships: Ellie Bishop/Cameron Mitchell (Stargate)
Series: Highly Classified [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/66481
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	Seriously, the Flirting

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ community "writerverse" phase 24, challenge 10 (crossover pairing)

They were dead, and Torres knew it.

Six heavily-armed weapons traffickers against two NCIS agents was not good odds, even without factoring in his probably-sprained ankle and the gash on Bishop’s forehead. He was leaning hard against her shoulder, letting her half-hold him up, steering them in the right direction until there was nowhere else to go.

“Hey, Bishop,” he said, “Looks like this is…”

But she was fumbling with something on her belt. Torres had a split-second to feel impressed that she’d hidden a weapon on herself, then frustrated that whatever she had had no chance of saving them, anyway. 

Then, suddenly, there was a blinding light. Torres closed his eyes against it, heard the crackle of something like lightning – then, silence.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes.

The six arms dealers were crumpled on the ground, with a dozen American servicemen in full tactical gear standing guard over them. Torres blinked, but the scene didn’t change.

“How…?” he began.

Bishop started forward, pulling him along by the arm he still had around her shoulders, throwing her free arm around the neck of one black-clad figure who emerged from the group. “Oh, thank god,” she mumbled.

“Hey, whoa,” the man said, catching her. “You okay?”

“Sorry, yeah,” said Bishop, taking a step back and steadying Torres, too. “And we are now, Cam, thanks to you.”

“Mitchell?” As Torres’s heartrate slowed back to normal, he recognized Bishop’s boyfriend, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Cam Mitchell, then the SGC insignias on the uniforms of the other people with him. “What the hell?”

“He means _thank you_ ,” put in Bishop.

“Well, sure, yeah,” said Torres. “But also, what the hell?”

Mitchell smiled. “I’m going to have to tell Dr. Lee his emergency button is a success.”

“You didn’t know it would work?” Bishop demanded, scowling.

“We knew it would send the signal,” he defended, “We just weren’t sure we could receive it, pinpoint the trouble, and beam in a rescue in time. Now we know.”

She huffed for a moment, then smiled. “You _did_ get here in time. I suppose that counts for something.”

“Just something?”

Torres scowled. “Ugh, maybe you two could save your flirting for when I’m not too injured to get away from it.”

“Oh, sorry, Nick,” said Bishop. “His ankle, Cam can you…?”

Mitchell nodded. “We’ll beam back to the SGC, they’ll take care of you – both of you.”

“Me?” said Bishop, then winced when he gently touched the cut on her forehead. “Ow!”

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Torres offered.

“But you might have a concussion,” said Mitchell. 

She smiled. “Might need to be kept awake, just in case.”

“Ugh, seriously, the flirting,” muttered Torres.

Mitchell smiled and tapped the radio in his ear. “ _Daedalus_ , this is Mitchell. Have a medical team and a security team ready when we come up.”

There was a reply that Torres couldn’t hear, then he felt the still-nauseating tug of the Asgard transporter as they were beamed aboard the _Daedalus_. Several more SGC officers joined them to help their original group wrangle the unconscious arms dealers, making room for a pair of medics.

“Agent Torres?” one asked.

“My ankle,” he said, “and _them_.”

The medic frowned, then looked over to where Mitchell still had his arm around Bishop’s waist. “We’re beaming you back down to the SGC,” he said, smiling. “Their infirmary is much bigger than ours.”

“Good,” said Torres, and braced himself for the transporter beam.

THE END


End file.
